Monday morning came and classes went by fast. It wasn't long until he was in Ms. Callahan's class where she was going over composition ideas with each student individually, giving the class a free period. As the bell rang, she told Chris to stay behind.
"I didn't forget about our appointment," he said, showing his palm with the words 'Ms. C @ 3' scrawled across it in black ink.
"Thank you Mr. Gaiten, I was just confirming," she said, smiling sweetly. "Do you know what your topic is going to be?" she queried.
"Internet censorship. It has been a passion of mine for a while."Ms. Callahan nodded and dismissed her student, both heading their separate ways to eat lunch.
Chris went to the cafeteria, raring to see Leslie. She sat at their usual seat with their usual friends. He got giddy with excitement and jogged over to sit by her side. She expressed her pleasure at seeing him again, resting her hand on his thigh, her head on his shoulder. He never even got anything to eat but he didn't feel hungry. She fulfilled him in a different way. The bell came too soon. Chris didn't have any classes with her this year so lunch was their only time together, but deep down he was grateful. Having to concentrate on school work and this siren would have been impossible. Chris walked Leslie to her next class, hand-in-hand.
"Wanna hang out after school today?" she asked him nervously.
"I'd love to but I have tutoring for English Comp.," he explained.
She nodded and gave his hand a squeeze. They parted ways and Chris rushed to P.E. making it to the locker room right before the bell. He changed into his gym clothes, school colors of black and gold, and awaited instructions. His teacher, an over-weight and balding man told them that they could split into groups; one for weight training, one for soccer and one for walking around the track. Chris wasn't into lifting weights and didn't have the hand-eye coordination for soccer so he decided to enjoy the fresh air on the track. Besides, most of the girls in his class would be walking and chatting and he'd get to admire them.
They walked from the main building and one of the other P.E. teachers, Mrs. Whitaker, was out there, a butch-looking woman in a gold-colored t-shirt and black shorts with a whistle around her neck. She blew it and encouraged the class to 'get moving!' Chris started at a decent pace, jogging around the quarter-mile track in only a few minutes. Running gave him a chance to clear his head. A chance to think things out. He was distracted by lovely Leslie running through his head.
"Good job Chris," Mrs. Whitaker said as he passed her for the fourth time in around ten minutes. He didn't notice, he just thought about the past week, how things had changed so much, got so much more exciting. He jogged past the other girls on the track and looked them over. Most of the guys in his class would have given their right nut for a chance with them, but they weren't exciting enough for him. Each girl seemed to have the same clothes, same hair, same plain beauty. What he wanted was a tattooed, pierced wild woman. A woman who knew what she wanted. A woman who knew she was sexy and needed no man to confirm it.
The whistle was blown three times in quick succession, breaking Chris from his reverie. "Let's head in!" Mrs. Whitaker shouted. He was already on the other side of the track and instead of jogging through the football field like everyone else he finished his lap strong, running to the end. "Good form, Gaiten!" his teacher complimented. "You ever thought about trying out for track? We could use someone with long legs for Cross-Country."
If Chris hadn't known better he would have guessed she was flirting with him but he had met the other Mrs. Whitaker, a sexy blonde bombshell, the two happily married for years now. He headed inside and changed out of his sweaty clothes. Grabbing some deodorant from his locker he slathered it on his underarms, banishing the smell of body odor. P.E. was his last class for the day and since he had gotten dressed early, he was able to leave early. He walked briskly down the hall to Leslie's art class and waited for her to emerge when the bell rang.
"Hi Chris!" she said, clutching her portfolio, slinging her backpack over her shoulder. He took both for her and walked her to her locker. They chatted for a few more minutes and he walked her to her bus. She gave him a peck on the cheek and they parted ways. When Chris got to his Toyota he pulled out his phone and started his navigation app. He imported Ms. Callahan's information from his contacts into the program and it sprang into action, pulling up turn-by-turn directions to her house. He jumped into his car, eager to get this tutoring session done so that he might be able to see Leslie again tonight.
As he turned the key in the ignition, the car sputtered and refused to start. "Come on Terly," he said, using the nickname he had given his Tercel. Seemingly responding to his pleas the car roared to life and he pulled out of the lot. Following the directions he drove uptown. The further he drove, the bigger the houses got.
"You have reached your destination," the feminine voice on his GPS told him. Before him was a brick wall punctuate by a wrought iron double gate with an ornate 'C' scrolled on it. He noticed an intercom and rolled down his windows, pressing the button tentatively. "Yes?" a voice came from the machine.
"Hi, it's me, Chris," he said nervously.
"Oh hey, let me open the gate for you!" came a voice now recognizable as Ms. Callahan's. The intercom buzzed and the gates rolled open smoothly. Chris put his car in drive and wound his way up her driveway. Her house came into view and it was very impressive. The driveway led right up to the front porch and then continued on, circling back on itself. The wrap-around porch was painted bright white, contrasting with the brick facade. The building wasn't very tall, maybe two stories with an attic space up top but it claimed a large footprint, covering a good chunk of the wooded property. As he parked his car, Ms. Callahan came out, glass of lemonade in hand. The cable installer's van was already there, "Waltham Cable and Security" it read in blue lettering on white paint.
"Hey Chris! Welcome to Callahan Manor," she smiled, gesturing to the palatial house behind her. "Come on in, make yourself comfortable!" Chris was dumbstruck as she led him into her house. "Here's the sitting room," she said, gesturing to a room stuffed with old books and over-upholstered furniture. "And here's the kitchen. Can I get you anything to eat?" Gleaming stainless steel and polished marble greeted him, high-quality appliances lining the walls. He shook his head and she continued the tour. "Here's my study," she explained, opening a door to another room with more old books and soft furnishings. "If you need to use the bathroom at any point it's the second door on the left."
